[Undisclosed NYC] One Way Or Another (Closed)

Even as the wind shifted and soft padded feet landed on the rooftop, Kaine did not move. Black Cat was impressively silent, and if his spider senses hadn't alerted him, he doubted he'd have realized she was there. He was too focused on his own prey to worry about the self-proclaimed hunter coming up behind him. She was even more stubborn than he thought if she was coming back after last time. But he knew what to expect. Some banter and flirting and forwardness. She was already getting close, hands coming up to touch him again. He hated he still remembered how that felt-

THWUMP!

Kaine feels the hands on his back and the unexpected force knocks him forward before he can process what just happened. With a swing, his body automatically rights itself before he falls - though his fingers are now attached to the lip of the rooftop where he'd been perched. Pieces of old brick and sealant sprinkle down with scratching sounds under his hands. He looks up and blinks blankly. He doesn't even look angry as his voice comes through forceful and a little hoarse from the unexpected exertion. Mostly, though, he sounds completely bewildered.

"What the hell?"

Was his Sense broken? Even hanging off the edge of the roof with the hand of the person who'd pushed him on his wrist, he still felt absolutely no threat coming from her.

The pressure on his wrist doesn't hold him up any more than he's holding himself up, and the concern on her face confuses him further. 'That's weird. Why'd she push me if she didn't think I'd fall?' He's stunned silent by her complete turn around, her words being taken in fine but processing like molasses as he struggles to put pieces together. "Did you call me Itsy-Bitsy Bitch?" he asks low, baffled. The effort of hanging is negligible, but he doesn't resist when she tugs at his wrist and braces herself to help him up and over. He tries to follow the trail of her emotions: She was angry. She was concerned. She was sorry.

What was going on?

He moves back onto the roof with an amount of grace a person his size isn't meant to have, padded feet landing smoothly and silently. He straightens up and looks down at his would-be attacker... "The fuck you do that for?" Yeah. No room for tact.

Kaine stares blankly. His lenses have never been wider in front of her, and his inner web of her emotional journey starts to add new points. Particularly when she starts practically giving a report like she did something wrong? She had been angry, that much was clear. But... angry because she was worried? Angry because she was confused and worried... That he understands than most everything she's said. Now the little bit of ashamed, and the concern, were back. Kaine looks at her not like he's angry or sympathetic, but like she's grown an extra head.

She squeezes his wrist, and her other hand finds him, but it doesn't feel like it did the other day. It doesn't send his mind immediately to images he'd rather forget. Now, it just is. He doesn't stop her. If anything, without meaning to, his muscles tense in a way that almost imperceptibly leans into her hand as it searches for injury. He shakes his head. "It's gonna take more than an unexpected swing to hurt me," - her search would confirm he wasn't hurt. But he still had questions.

If you didn't think I'd fall, why push me? Why didn't you register as a threat before you tried to push me off a building? Why did I lose focus when you came closer? There is, however, one question that sticks out and nags at the edge of his mind too strongly to not voice."... What? Why were you worried?"

His weight shifts, angling slightly towards the hand on his arm. It's a comfortable, familiar motion – and once again one he isn't aware of. His lenses narrow into what is clearly a furrowed brow expression. He knows how he left, but why did that bother her? Her wrist tightens like clock work. It doesn't bother him - she hadn't tried to stop him moving away last time.

His brow softens and with it his lenses return to neutral. "I don't run. Told you I had to go, Cat..." It's the first thing that makes sense to him to say. "I get why you were worried now... But I still don't get why you care." The callous words are genuine and without sting. His tone amps up with confused energy when he continues, "How is it unfair? No one... You don't have any reason..." He can't finish the thought, so he leaves it there. It's a natural enough conclusion, but the way his sentence cuts off leaves the assumption clear enough. You don't have any reason to give a shit about me. No one does.

"What're you doin out here, anyway?" He changes the subject with words that move too quickly, betraying the underlying nerves. Anything to get the heat off.

Her stepping closer has the hackles raise like before, hyperaware of where she is. But this time they lower. She is not a threat. Otherwise his sense would have had him dodging her the moment she brought her hands anywhere towards him. If there was anything he could trust, it was his instincts. It was the only thing.

"How is that my fault?" He cranes his neck to keep looking at her. He was used to looking down from this proximity, but not at anyone he'd plan on letting stay without his fist finding their face. Or worse-

She winces and his eyes immediately draw to the source. He looks quizzically at her hand, and then her. He doesn't need to ask out loud for her to interpret that, but she wouldn't be able to see his mouth start to move before she answers his last question.

A job for someone? That piques his interest, but her praise of his stealth pushes that question to the backburner for the moment. Well yeah, he was pretty damn stealthy. Way sneakier than Peter, or even that Ghost Girl. He stops preening metaphorical feathers in his head when she accurately figures out what he's up to. Wasn't hard to surmise, this part of town, this locale... But still. "Lucky guess." He sniffs, playing it off, and moves his head to glance down over the lip of the roof where he'd just been dangling. "You picked a hell of a night to be on this street." He turns to his actual vantage point, expecting her to follow - or at least observe.

"Hammerhead. Maggia Enforcer. Formidable, but doesn't play well with others, so he usually does jobs alone. Tonight's no exception. He'll be cocky and hardheaded- literally. Got no reason to suspect I know a thing. According to the plans I swiped, we've got an armored truck pickup over here. Three potential routes, all leading to this point. He could come at it from there, there, or there." As he speaks, he points out every location with precision, not noticing that he's not moving the wrist her hand is around. "This is the closest spot, and best vantage point for miles. Most likely, I'll be right on top of him. He's not exactly a 'switch it up' kinda guy, either. Keeps it classic. Doesn't make him any less dangerous. Just a bit more stupid."